


One More Day

by neurodivergentnerd



Category: Hat Films - Fandom, Hat_Films, Hatfilms, The Yogscast, Yogscast, yogs - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Sexual Content, Surreal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-05-27 13:45:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6286972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neurodivergentnerd/pseuds/neurodivergentnerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a terrible accident tears Alex Smith’s world apart, he isolates himself, ignoring calls from concerned friends, and tries to drink away the pain. Nightmares plague his sleep every night until he wakes up to a familiar face. Has it all just been a horrible dream or is this his chance at one more day?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hinc Illae Lacrimae

**Author's Note:**

> Look at that shitty summary lmao. Anyway - This is my first multi-chapter fic. It most likely will be really short because I'm still kinda getting into the habit of writing again. However, I do hope you all enjoy it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to Vexedbeverage and Eviljaffafish for beta reading this chapter for me!

The phone rang but Smith ignored it. His attention was focused on two things. One, a bottle of whiskey, and two, a photograph. The bottle was nearly empty. The photo was a bit crinkled.

_Beep._

“Smith,” Ross’ voice broke the silence after the answering machine picked up the call, “mate, please answer the phone.” The other man’s voice was soft and fragile.“You’ve been locked up in there for a week now. We’re worried about you,” Ross paused before continuing, quieter, “ _I’m_ worried about you..”

Smith closed his eyes and brought the lip of the bottle to his mouth, taking a deep drink. The burn of the alcohol seared down his throat and into his belly, making him warm and drowsy.

“Smith, just… please. The next time I come over, please just let me in, alright? We don’t even have to talk. I just want to see you,” Ross’ voice broke and the sound of muffled crying crackled over the answering machine’s speaker. That was all for a minute until Smith heard Ross take in a deep, shaking breath.”Please let me in, Smith, the next time I come over. I,” There was a pause, a sniffle, then he continued, “I need you, mate. I can’t do this alone... and you can’t either. So please… Just let me in.”

_Click._

Smith opened his eyes again and stared at the answering machine for a moment. Then he turned his gaze back to the photo in his hand. He didn’t cry. He’d already cried so many times. His eyes felt dry and itchy. The pad of his thumb brushed over one of the faces in the photograph. 

This photo was taken back when he and Trott had gone to the fair that passed by once a year. The food was shit and the rides tended to cause headaches, but it was still fun. 

The two men had stopped by a photobooth and had taken a series of photos. Loads of silly faces, rabbit ears, and other nonsense. There were a couple more serious ones with Smith’s arm around Trott’s shoulders and Trott’s arm around his waist, leaning into each other. 

This one though, was Smith’s favourite. In it, he had trapped Trott in the corner of the booth, pressed between Trott’s legs, and was tickling him mercilessly. Trott’s face was bright with laughter, cheeks slightly pink from the exertion. He was pushing against Smith’s chest in an attempt to push the bigger man off and his hair was mussed up, the dark brown undercut sticking up in places. 

Smith stared at the photo, his chest aching so deeply that it felt like a black hole was tearing away at his core. His sight went blurry and he closed his eyes tightly as tears once again trailed down his reddened cheeks. He did have more crying in him afterall.

Taking the last swig of the whiskey, Smith stood and nearly fell over, knocking into the side table and sending the lamp falling to the floor. He stared blearily for a moment before whipping his arm through the air and throwing the empty bottle at the wall. The glass shattered and Smith let out a sob, stumbling through the glass in his barefeet, ignoring the spikes of pain, before leaning against the wall. He clutched the photo in his hand tightly and pressed his fist to his chest.

Curses tore from his lips as Smith shouted his anger and his despair, sobs breaking his slurred words. Time ticked by until his voice grew hoarse. He gave one last sob before he stumbled to the floor, curling up and bringing the photo to his face. He stared at it until he at last fell into a troubled sleep, nightmares and memories mixing into a horror show in his head.


	2. Absit Omen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Eviljaffafish for beta reading this for me ~

Smith laughed loudly, his bright blue eyes nearly closed in his glee. His breath fogged in the cold air. Trott shoved at Smith’s shoulder, making the taller man stumble to the side a bit. His smile gave away the fact that he wasn’t actually annoyed.

“Shut the hell up, Smith, you ass.”

This made Smith laugh even more as he looped an arm around Trott’s shoulders, pulling the shorter man to him and nuzzling into his hair, “Oh c’mon Trott, you know it’s true!” He leaned in closer and lowered his voice, “You know you want me, Troutimus.” 

Trott rolled his eyes, still smiling, before turning his head and quickly catching Smith’s mouth with his own in a surprise kiss, chuckling when Smith blinks, “I thought that was obvious, twat.” Trott’s own voice had lowered, sounding more like a purr. His arm went around Smith’s waist and he slipped his hand into Smith’s jacket pocket, fingering the car keys that had taken up residence there. Smith’s cheeks flushed and he grinned widely.

“How about we hurry on up home then, _Chrisss_?” Smith suggested, drawing out his lover’s name whilst running his hand down the man’s back. Trott laughed out loud and pulled away, shaking a finger at the other man. 

“In a bit, you randy bastard. I want to check out this one place first. I heard that they hav-”

Just then, Smith’s cell rang. He held up a finger while checking to see who it was.

“It’s Ross,” Smith answered Trott’s answering gaze. The other man nodded and gestured at him to answer. Bringing his phone up to his ear, Smith watched Trott walk around idly with his hands in his pockets, his footsteps crunching in the snow. The man was looking up at the sky, the stars twinkling back down at him. Trott looked at Smith and smiled at him sweetly before turning his gaze back up. Smith smiled and turned his attention away as he spoke, tracing idle patterns in the snow with the tip of his shoe.

“Hey Ross, what’s up?” 

The only sound was a crackling sob.

“Ross? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Smith asked, glancing at Trott, who was slowly making his way across the deserted street, before looking back at the snow at his feet.

“S-Smith…” Ross’ voice was ragged and kept hitching, his breathing rough, “Smith… Something’s happened.”

Smith’s heart began to sink, “What? What’s happened?”

There was another choked sob before Ross answered, “Smith… Trott’s gone.”

Brows furrowing in confusion, Smith tapped his foot on the ground, squashing the little drawing he’d made in the snow, “What do you mean, Trott’s gone? He’s right here, with me.”

“No Smith, Trott was in an accident. Drunk driver smashed into him,” Ross’ voice broke and all Smith could hear was the crackle of violent crying over the speaker. 

All of a sudden, a crash exploded through the air. Smith whipped around and stared in horror at the wreckage of a car that had ran into one of the shops across the street. The sound of choked breathing reached him and his gaze zeroed in on a figure lying in the street, the snow around them blossoming into red patches. One of their legs was twisted into an unnatural angle.

Everything seemed to muffle as Smith realised who they were and time moved slowly as he started running towards them. The scream that ripped from his throat was nearly silent in his ears, a whining ring that faded away.

Tripping through the snow, Smith fell to his knees next to Trott’s body. Blood gurgled from the man’s lips and his golden brown eyes had turned dull. Smith called out his name, wrapping his arms around Trott’s torso and bringing him up to his chest. He checked for a pulse. 

Nothing.

All sounds came rushing back, crashing against his ears deafeningly. The sound of sirens and people shouting, though the street was empty but for the wreckage and the two men. Smith could hear himself screaming Trott’s name, clutching desperately to the dead man’s body. Blood stained his clothes.

“Alex,” a soft voice beckoned. Smith felt a hand cup his jaw and his eyes fluttered open. The pale light of sunrise filtered through the cotton curtains, dust particles sparkling in the air. Trott lay next to him in the warm bed, smiling down at him, his hand sliding down to rest on Smith’s bare shoulder.

“Morning sleepyhead.”


	3. Update

I know this hasn't been updated in a few months, but with my interest in the lovely Hat boys growing into an obsession again, I'll hopefully have a new chapter for this in the works soon!


	4. Ubi Amor, Ibi Dolor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trying to break this fucking writer's block! hope this chapter is sufficient. ;_;  
> no beta readers this time so sorry if it's shit lmao

Smith blinked. "Trott?" He spoke, his voice rough and broken. The other man's smile widened slightly. Smith reached up and rubbed at his eyes, groaning at the slight headache pulsing at the base of his skull.

Trott ran a hand up over Smith's chest and rested it on his shoulder, "Hungover again, eh? You really ought to ease up on the drinking." Leaning in, Trott pressed his lips against Smith's cheek, the rough patch of stubble scratching against his soft lips. 

"Could give you a massage, if you'd like." 

Smith let his arms fall back to the bed and sighed, tilting his head from side to side to pop the stubborn joints. He couldn't help the little twitch at the corner of his lips at Trott's offer before he rolled onto his own side, peering down into the smaller man's golden brown eyes. The sunlight shining through the window made them sparkle and Smith found himself lost in them for a moment before Trott quirked a brow.

"Yes?"

Blinking again, Smith let out a little laugh at himself before shaking his head, "Nothin'. Just looking. But yeah, I'll take that massage you're offering." With that, Smith turned to the other side, grunting quietly as he laid on his stomach.

Lifting himself up, Trott sidled over to straddle Smith's thighs, running his palms up Smith's exposed back. Freckles were abundant and Trott could always make out a constellation or two, if he tried. As his fingers slowly began to press into the tense muscles at the base of Smith's neck, Trott started humming quietly to himself. It wasn't a specific song or melody, just something his mind was playing.

Eyes closed, Smith listened, face buried in his arms. The deft fingers working their magic into his muscles were cool to the touch and felt nice against his warmed skin. Time passed and the pain in Smith's head faded, the quiet sounds of the room lulling him. 

Then Trott's hands left him and the bed creaked as the smaller man shifted off of his back, falling back to lay beside him.

Smith's eyes opened and met Trott's own again. He thought he saw a sad look in Trott's eyes before they brightened, but he must've imagined it. A smile tugged at Trott's lips and Smith couldn't stop himself from leaning in to steal a kiss. It lasted only a moment, but it was sweet and soft, a delicacy that Smith was proud to say was his to experience only.

Trott huffed a small laugh against Smith's mouth before pulling away and sitting up, crossing his legs. 

"What d'you want for breakfast? Eggs? Pancakes?"

The offer was unexpected and Smith took a moment to reply.

"Pancakes sound good."

Trott smiled again and hopped off of their bed, baring his naked body to the light, "Alright. Lemme just get dressed first."

Striding over to the closet, Trott rummaged through their clothes. Smith watched, scratching at his beard and letting out a little yawn. Trott pulled a shirt out and pulled it on, Smith noticing that it was a mite too big for him. It fell to his thighs, brushing against the slightly paler skin there. Trott turned and Smith realised it was one of his shirts. Warmth blossomed in his chest as he stared, taking in the sight.

The tee was one of Smith’s many maroon selections, soft and loose. It contrasted well with Trott's light brown skin. Trott lit up with another small smile before tossing another shirt and pair of briefs at Smith.

“You get dressed as well, you lazy sod,” Trott scolded playfully, winking before leaving the bedroom, feet slapping quietly against the wooden floors. Smith chuckled to himself and began to dress, still feeling a little lost in his post-sleep haze.

Stopping on his way to the kitchen to take a quick piss, Smith could smell the slightly sweetened scent of pancakes begin to permeate the small apartment. His stomach growled and he quickened himself.

Entering the dining area, Smith stood to the side, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, as he watched Trott at the cooker for a bit. Trott was humming to himself again, swaying slightly to the melody, the hem of Smith’s shirt brushing against his thighs and just barely showing a sliver of the black briefs he had on underneath. Smith laughed quietly as he realised that Trott had made them match, probably on purpose as well.

Suddenly overcome by the desire to be touching his lover, Smith made his way over and slipped his arms around Trott’s waist, snuggling into the shorter man’s back and resting his chin on Trott’s shoulder. Time passed quietly, Smith listening to Trott’s humming and breathing, the sizzle of the pancake batter in the pan, the smell of butter and the opened syrup bottle. A calm overtook him and he squeezed Trott tighter, feeling a strange pang in his chest. 

“Alright sunshine,” Trott spoke up, interrupting Smith’s mulling over whatever that feeling was, “pancakes are done so get off me and sit down.” Smith pursed his lips and blew a raspberry into Trott’s neck, making him squirm and slap at Smith’s head, wiping at the spit shining on his skin. Smith laughed before stealing a kiss from Trott’s plump lips and spinning to sit at the small table.

Before he placed his bum on the seat, however, the beep of the answering machine caught his attention. Smith clicked his tongue for a moment, considering if he actually wanted to bother with it, before giving a little shrug and reaching for the play button on the machine.

 _Beep_. 

“Smith,” Ross’ voice broke the silence after the answering machine picked up the call, “mate, please answer the phone.” The other man’s voice was soft and fragile.“You’ve been locked up in there for a week now. We’re worried about you,” Ross paused before continuing, quieter, “I’m worried about you..”

Everything froze and Smith’s blood ran cold. Ross’ voice was loud in his ears. 

“Smith, just… please. The next time I come over, please just let me in, alright? We don’t even have to talk. I just want to see you,” Ross’ voice broke and the sound of muffled crying crackled over the answering machine’s speaker. That was all for a minute until Smith heard Ross take in a deep, shaking breath.”Please let me in, Smith, the next time I come over. I,” There was a pause, a sniffle, then he continued, “I need you, mate. I can’t do this alone... and you can’t either. So please… Just let me in.” 

_Click_.

Smith’s heart felt like a lead weight in his chest, heavy and solid. Everything sounded tinny, his ears ringing. He felt cold and dizzy.

It took a moment for him to realise that a hand had been placed gently on his arm. When it made the connection to his brain, he turned his head to see Trott next to him, his face drawn into an expression of aching sorrow.


	5. Tempus Edax Rerum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a short chapter, sorry

“Alex,” Trott spoke softly, tightening his grip on Amith's arm, “Alex, speak to me please.”

Swallowing hard, a painful lump forcing itself down his throat, Alex tried to speak, but his voice came out in a croak. He cleared his throat before trying again, still hoarse but understandable.

“Chris… What is going on…?”

Trott looked away for a moment before meeting Smith’s gaze again, the sadness on his face growing pained.

“Yeah… I guess,” he paused before continuing, giving a small shrug, “There’s no easy way to say this, sunshine, so I’m just going to say it, yeah?”

Steering Smith to the couch, Trott sat him down on it and took a seat beside him. He took Smith’s hands in his own, linking their fingers and staring down at them.

“I’m dead, Alex.”

A moment of quiet passed before he continued.

“I’m sorry about not being upfront about it when you woke up, but I just… I needed to see you happy first… Before this…” 

Trott looked up to meet Smith’s eyes again, squeezing their hands and swallowing hard. The heat of tears built up behind his eyes.

“I just needed to see you happy…”

Smith didn’t say anything. He was still in a daze of shock. Trott went silent, hanging his head slightly. He rubbed his thumbs against Smith’s wrists, waiting patiently.

It took a minute before Smith cleared his throat.

“I… I don’t understand, Chris. How can you be here if you’re…,” he squeezed his eyes shut before continuing, “If you’re dead…?”

Trott shook his head.

“I’m not really sure of that, sunshine,” he gave a small, humourless laugh, “I guess we were wrong all those times we poked fun at religion, eh?” 

Smith said nothing, instead just staring at Trott, face blank. Trott sighed.

“I dunno Alex. I was hit and then I was somewhere. I could see what was going on with you, Ross, and everyone else. I tried so hard to contact you. I tried so fucking hard but I couldn’t do anything!” 

Trott bit back the sob that threatened to burst from his chest.

“I couldn’t fucking do anything or be there for you or anything and I felt so alone. I couldn’t stand seeing you like this! Drinking yourself to death, ignoring Ross and everyone else…”

Smith’s chest constricted and he threw his arms around Trott, pulling the smaller man against his chest, the dam behind his own eyes breaking as they clung to each other. They held onto each other as they would a life raft in a raging storm. There was a matching ache in their chests, a black hole of misery as they clung tightly. 

Time passed. Trott pulled away first, rubbing a fist against his flushed cheeks, as he let out a small chuckle. 

“I am happy, though, to finally be able to actually be seen by you,” he offered a shaky smile and Smith followed with his own, his eyes bloodshot and rimmed with wet lashes. Smith kept his arms around Trott, not ever wanting to let go.

“Yeah,” his voice broke and he cleared his throat, “yeah,” he repeated. He paused before leaning in to press his lips against Trott’s own in a gentle kiss.

“I’ve missed you,” Smith whispered, “God, how I’ve missed you..” He brought up a hand to cup Trott’ jaw, kissing him again with more urgency. He just wanted to touch him again, the half of him that had been ripped away filling with Trott’s presence once again. It had jagged edges, the knowledge that Trott was dead and, more than likely, wouldn’t be able to stay. But he clung on, clutching the smaller man against him and pouring all the love he had for the man into the kiss. 

Trott returned with fervor, practically climbing into Smith's lap, arms going once again around the ginger’s neck, pulling him in even tighter. 

“I need you, Chris,” Smith murmured against Trott’s mouth, his hands running over Trott’s back, fingers digging into his shirt. Trott made a small noise in response and their actions increased in vigor. Both their shirts had been discarded when Trott pulled away, a whine slipping from Smith. Trott laughed and took Smith's hand in his own, leading him to their bedroom.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, please let me know in the comments.  
> I'd super appreciate feedback on what you liked and what you think I should work on.  
> Any constructive criticism, suggestions, etc, are all very much welcome.  
> Thank you for reading~ xo


End file.
